


(Spidey) You Can Drive My Car

by yukiawison



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Parent Tony Stark, Peter's getting his driver's license, Trans Peter Parker, and crying, sappy nonsense, transphobia references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: Peter Parker has a lot on his plate. Getting his driver's license is still a top priority.





	(Spidey) You Can Drive My Car

“You told him he didn’t have to, right?” Peter sunk further into the couch and ran his hands through his hair to give them something to do. He was still in his pajamas. “You emphasized that it wasn’t a big deal?”

Aunt May frowned and faltered in her lunch making. He’d told her plenty of times that he was more than capable of assembling his own PB&Js and bags of carrot sticks but she insisted on doing it for him whenever she had the time to spare. Last week she’d surprised him with Spider-Man fruit snacks (which, yes, were apparently a thing now) and he and Ned had lost their freaking minds in the cafeteria.  

“I was under the impression you’d be excited Pete?” She said. “I can try to cancel but I don’t think—”

“No, Aunt May that’s not it at all,” he interrupted, jumping up and crossing the living room in two steps. “I’m ecstatic Mr. Stark’s offering to help me practice driving I’m just also terrified by the fact that Mr. Stark’s going to let me drive him around. In his car Aunt May!”

She shrugged, more chill than he could dream to be. “You’re his intern kiddo; he trusts you. I told him you were having trouble getting your driving hours in with my work schedule and he insisted.”

“But what if I crash it or...or I don’t know, run a light?”

“You’re a very careful driver with me.”

“Yeah, but...” He couldn’t say that it was hard enough getting Mr. Stark to see him as more than a kid, and as an Avenger who could handle himself, without him seeing Peter panic over which lane to turn into. 

“You’ll be just fine Peter.”

“I...okay.” He knew she meant the driving, and not the Avenging (that she didn’t know anything about), but for a second it felt like she meant all of it. Maybe everything could be fine. 

“He’s going to pick you up after school. I’m working late so I’ll leave some money on the counter for you to order pizza if you want.” 

“Okay,” Peter said. “Thanks Aunt May.”

“You’re very welcome,” she said, handing him his lunch box. “Now get dressed before you miss the bus.”

He sighed and nodded. 

“And honey?” May’s voice softened the way it often did.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re going to wear your binder to school all day you still need to take it off before you go driving,” she reminded.

_Crap._

He nodded again, but he knew Aunt May saw the way his face fell.

“I’ll call Mr. Stark if you don’t want to go Pete, but binder or no binder you’re going to do great.” 

He looked down at the lunch box in his hands. Sometimes Aunt May left him notes in his lunch: a “have a great day!!” Or “I love you” or lately, “I’m so proud of you” and “I’m glad you’re you.” It was good to have someone on his side when things got tough. He kind of had a lot on his plate. 

“You don’t have to call him,” Peter said, after a moment. 

Aunt May smiled. 

Peter got dressed in record time. There was some scrambling to find his shoes. There was a moment of hesitation before he shoved his suit in his backpack along with a sports bra and his physics homework. He made it out the door and to the bus stop with approximately 5 seconds to spare. 

“So Iron Man is like...going to teach you how to parallel park?” Ned said, as the bus lurched over a speed bump.

“He’s not...I’m not...” Peter began too loudly and ended in a whisper to keep people from staring. “I’m not even ready to parallel park yet. It’s not a huge deal,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound like the blatant lie it was.

“Its a monumental deal, dude,” Ned pressed, turning around in the seat in front of him to look at Peter. “Does he know about what happened last week?”

“What happened last week?” Peter replied, feigning innocence. 

Ned sighed. “On patrol. Look, I’m your guy in the chair. I’m not going to let anyone mess with Spider-Man like that.”

“Spider-Man can take care of himself.” He said quietly. 

“Yeah, well on an entirely separate note Peter Parker’s my best friend and I’m not going to let anyone mess with him either.”

Peter choked out a laugh. “Thanks Ned,” he said. 

At school Peter stuck his extra clothes at the bottom of his locker alongside his lunchbox. He’d considered skipping his binder at school and putting it on before Mr. Stark picked him up, but the prospect of dodging  _Penis Parker _jokes and concentrating on his Spanish quiz without its security was daunting. 

The day passed excruciatingly slowly. At lunch MJ noticed his knee bouncing anxiously and offered him some of her tater tots. 

“Whatever it is Parker,” she began, leaning her elbows on the table casually. “Some hyper-processed potatoes will help.” 

“Thanks,” Peter said, face feeling hot.

After classes ended he made it out of the school and into the parking lot in record time given that he’d had to struggle out of his binder in a bathroom stall and slip past a couple of bullies on his way to his locker. 

Ned wanted to wait around until Mr. Stark pulled up in whatever amazing car Peter really hoped he wouldn’t crash, but he convinced him not to. 

He found a free picnic table by the pick up lane and watched the buses fill up and drive away. He pulled his knees to his chest and waited. It took awhile. 

The parking lot was nearly empty when Mr. Stark arrived. Peter jumped up when the red Mustang pulled up and Mr. Stark rolled the window down. He proceeded to trip over his own feet. 

“Careful, kid,” Mr. Stark said. “Sorry I’m late, didn’t want to draw too much attention.”

“That’s okay Mr. Stark,” Peter said as Tony Stark got out of the car. “But doesn’t the car kinda defeat that point?”

Mr. Stark looked Peter over and grinned. Peter crossed his arms over his chest on self-conscious impulse. It was easier to look Iron Man in the eye when he was in the suit. Spider-Man wasn’t scared or intimidated. Peter was. 

“No one’s going to mess with you in this car, kid. You ready?” 

Peter nodded and Tony patted him on the back. 

“Hop in.”

***

Peter thought he was a decent driver. He’d gotten his permit a few weeks ago and had mastered basic turns with Aunt May in parking lots. When they tried out real roads May told him he had a tendency to go too fast and consequently slam on the breaks. They hadn’t tackled the busier parts of the city yet. 

“Adjust your mirrors and the seat, kid,” Mr. Stark said, as Peter worried over driving an expensive car. 

They pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Peter tried to keep his shoulders from tensing up, but it was no use. He gripped the steering wheel with more strength than was strictly necessary. He hoped Mr. Stark didn’t notice.

“How was school?” Mr. Stark asked. “You can get in the left lane and turn up here. Your aunt said you haven’t been on the bigger streets yet.”

“Yeah, but I can do it,” Peter blurted, and then felt stupid. 

Mr. Stark glanced over at him, but Peter kept his eyes laser focused on the road and didn’t meet his gaze. “There’s no harm in taking things slow,” he said. 

Peter nodded. “School was fine,” he added. “I got an A on my calculus test.” This was a real accomplishment actually, because he’d been bruised and tired as hell from a run in with a group of thieves during a patrol the night before the test. 

“That’s great, kid,” Mr. Stark said. “And how’s everything else?” He sounded less self-assured, and since Iron Man always sounded  _like Iron Man_ , Peterlooked over at him as he pulled up to the stoplight. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, feeling smaller than ever in the leather seat. “Like how are patrols? Spider-Man’s handling everything that needs to be handled.”

“I know,” Mr. Stark said. “I know that, Pete. I’m asking about the bullying...and the harassment and I don’t want you to brush it off like it’s nothing because that’s not emotionally healthy. Jesus, since when do I know anything about emotional health?”

“What did Aunt May tell you?” He said, tightly. 

“She’s just worried about you, Peter.”

“You know what, never mind. Can we not do this right now, Mr. Stark? I’m kind of trying to keep my focus on the driving.” 

The light changed and Peter stepped on the gas. 

“I know you have a lot on your plate.”

“I’m fine,” Peter replied, through gritted teeth.  _A lot on your plate_  was code for  _you can’t handle anything by yourself, can you?_ Once he came out, Peter was petrified that he’d gotten too complicated for Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers. Sure, the Avengers weren’t exactly simple, but no one else was a trans kid with high school to finish, an aunt to keep from worrying, and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy to overcome (or not, as it were.)

“Peter, stop.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“No, stop, stop, stop. That’s a stop sign.”

Peter stomped on the break and they both jerked forward and then back at a sickening pace. 

“Pull over, kid.” Mr. Stark said. 

Peter was shaking, but he did. 

They were quiet for a moment. Peter leaned his head on the steering wheel and didn’t look up at Mr. Stark when he spoke. He was too embarrassed, and already on the verge of tears. 

“It’s okay, Pete. Don’t worry about it. I just...” he hesitated. “You’ve got to talk to someone about what’s going on, okay? It doesn’t have to be me. It doesn’t have to be now, but I need you to know that you have support.”

“Superheroes are supposed to be strong. They’re supposed to support themselves,” he muttered, eyes still on the wheel.

“Peter look at me. C’mon, look at me.”

Peter looked up. His chin was starting to wobble the way it did when he was about to cry. 

“If that was true, why would we have the Avengers?” Mr. Stark said. He looked worried. Peter hated that he made everyone worry, but he was cracking. 

“It’s bad when I’m out on patrol sometimes,” he muttered. He looked down at his hands. “My voice cracks sometimes or the suit doesn’t look quite right and people say...things.”

“What do they say, Pete?”

“Shitty things, slurs and stuff when they can tell that I’m...that I’m not. It’s not bad when I don’t let it get to me. I can just do the job and get out of there. But at school it’s different.”

“What happens at school?” 

Cars were whizzing past them. Peter’s face was hot and his eyes were watery. 

“At school I just have to be me. I can’t even be Spider-Man and show everyone I matter. I can’t even fight back,” he choked. “And my friends help and so does wearing my binder and taking my anxiety meds and sharing MJ’s tater tots it’s just...hard. Every day it’s hard.”

It was a release to say, but it was even more of a release when Mr. Stark was unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching across the seat to hug him. He hung on tight and Peter let him. He let himself feel warm and secure for a moment and didn’t worry about his chest or the tears that were still running down his face. 

“You matter all the time Peter Parker. You mattered before the suit and you’ll matter after. And I’m so proud of you. I get so worried but I’m so proud. You’re such a great kid, not like I was at your age. I was a piece of shit. I’m just sorry. I’m sorry that there are shitty people who can’t see you the way I see you. Because you’re so brave, Peter. You’re braver than I’ll ever be.”

“Mr. Stark...”

Mr. Stark drew back to look at him again. “And if anyone messes with you again I want you to call so I can beat the sick son of a bitch—“

Peter laughed. It was a pitiful laugh, half choking out tears and mentally stumbling over the praise. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks, really, and I’ll keep you posted on everything I can, Mr. Stark. I just...” he trailed off. 

“You just what, kid? How can I help you?”

Peter sucked in a breath. “I just want to get my license,” he said. “I’d just love to be able to drive before some super villain yeets me into outer space.” He wiped the tears off his face and grinned. 

“Before a villain does what?”

“Never mind, it’s fine. Can we finish the drive, Mr. Stark? I understand if you don’t want me driving your car anymore because I’m so all over the place.”

Mr. Stark shook his head. “This car’s seen worse, kid. You’ll have your license in no time.” 

“You really think so?” He asked, looking out the windshield at the road in front of them. It had its fair share of potholes.

“I know so, kid.”


End file.
